Navy Dad. (Scholastic Art & Writing Awards).

He's one of the funniest people I know. He drives me crazy most of the time that he's home, but he always makes dinnertime conversation interesting. Summers he wears purple shorts.

He'd do anything for his country. After September 11, he begged to go to sea, to become a wartime hero.

His dream came true. On October 11, my father sailed out with the USNS Saturn.

We've done this before--six months with No Dad. We're professionals at this game of keeping in touch, of being happy. E-mails keep us connected, and snail mail keeps us surprised.

I can see him now in his own time zone. He's Sitting at his desk, impatiently talking to the officers and civilians on ship, yelling when necessary. At around 10 p.m., he'll start the day's paperwork, not finishing until after midnight.

Next, he will write an e-mail to me, my brother, my sister, or my mom. I tell him that four hours of sleep is unhealthy, but he continues his exhausting routine. He's so stressed he calls himself "Big Da-Da," and me "Cool Cat."

I have a picture of him on my bureau in his dress blues--blues that look more like black. I personally like his white uniform. With the shoes and hat he looks devilishly handsome.

He tries to call our time zone whenever he can. We heard from him Christmas morning and New Year's Day. School, church, and after-school activities help us get through the time without him. While he's gone, I get the chance to realize how similar we are, even though I hate to admit it.

We both have a dry sense of humor, which makes us appear "weird" to the people around us. Thanks to him I have dental problems, hence the braces on my top teeth. Because of him I have intelligence and determination.

My dad lived in his hometown until he joined the Navy, an ambition he has not passed down to me. But I do wish that he had given me a single hometown.

One thing we never agree on: clothes. I don't consider purple shorts the latest fashion.

Faults come in many sizes and shapes. One of mine: I am addicted to talk shows. One of the Navy's: It keeps my dad away for holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and school functions.

One Easter he gave me a gold bracelet that he picked out all by himself, he proudly told me. I've worn that bracelet on my right wrist ever since.

He has been able to travel the world--the reason he joined the Navy, And because of that, I have many keepsakes. I have dolls from China and Acapulco, boxes from Sicily, and a koala bear from Australia. Books about Rome and Hawaii, our home for four years, cover the coffee table.

We've never thought of Dad's being gone as his fault. We blame the Navy.

When a soldier returns from war he is always a hero, no matter where he has been. I don't have to wait until my dad returns for him to be my hero--despite his addiction to purple shorts and The Simpsons.